


Yes or No?

by punkwraith



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, NSFW, PWP, Porn, UHH THIS IS BAD SORRY, fem/fem - Freeform, light fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkwraith/pseuds/punkwraith
Summary: Bangalore can’t seem to be the emotional type. Lifeline is the emotional type. Maybe she just needs a small nudge?





	Yes or No?

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first apex legends fic and my first ever fic after a LONG time of not writing fics so sorry this is all rushed! i have to get better somehow eh?

_To become Champion was her priority. Success was on her agenda. She is a lioness. A thunderstorm._

Finding her family was all she wanted. Loneliness looms on the horizon like a storm cloud and she is weighted with it. Weighted by guilt — an angry collar around her sturdy throat.

The sky is orange and the clock is ticking. Bangalore - they called her - was hellbent on getting that win. She was top of her class, moulded from fine steel with a sense so sharp she may as well have been a blade. Yet, goals aside, she is keenly aware of her squad and the team efforts required to even succeed. Bloodhound, and the trustworthy Lifeline.

She’s sweaty. She’s bloody and she’s tired. It was in human nature to be so exhausted from their trek across the treacherous land. Predators in their own right, seeking their prey where they hid in crowded houses and camped out in the cool bunker shade. Bloodhound sought, they /marked/, and Bangalore killed. Lifeline was there for both combative and medical support. If it were up to her, all of the proceeds would simply be put to good use. They all knew each champion would get their even split, and apparently that was all that mattered. She has her plentiful share of kills and proves within a matter of long hours that she too, could be a rather lethal person when given the right gun.

Bangalore feels safe, almost. As if she could - for only a second - let go of her blindest side and let Lifeline fill the gaps.

The sun burns into her skin like an angry stare. Bangalore treks across the Thunderdome with Lifeline in tow, the ground rough with sand. Bloodhound makes sure to cover their tracks while Bangalore posts up for only a moment. “Keep an eye out for the last squad. We tag ‘em, and we win.” She surveys the area. Shields her eyes from the sun with a bloodied hand and squints over the horizon. Behind her, she can hear Lifeline rummaging through a care package. 

“I heard that. But you know, we’re doin’ a pretty good job together don’t you think? You n’ me, Anita?” They were on a first-name basis. Between the two women, there seemed to be an amicable thread. Though Lifeline knows better. Bangalore wasn’t soft. She hated the prospect of fragility. And love on the battlefield was dangerous ... but maybe, maybe it wasn’t so wrong? 

Lifeline calls her name and she swears her heart is full of a static she never thought she’d feel. Her eyes are sharp but her insides feel so delicate in that very moment. She forgets how human she is — forgets that she doesn’t have to be so robotic and stoic when she has a girl pining for her (and she may be pining for her, too.) “Yeah, Ajay. You’d be a great soldier, I think. But i’m starting to see you are quite the ace of spades.” /Anita/ fears looking at her. For looking at her would solidify the feeling of Ajay having finally sunk her pretty little teeth into Anita’s swollen heart. She swallows as she steps down from the crooked rock she’d climbed. Dusting off her fatigues - letting the wind coax her into turning the opposite cheek. Ajay swears her heart aches for her. How Anita seems so ... despondent. She doesn’t know everything about her, but gods would she like to. A soldier like her has eons of weight to carry and she knew that. She could never understand it, but she could absolutely dream of the moment Anita would just talk to her. Shed that weight like snake skin and become soft - for just a second.

Bloodhound doesn’t seem too impressed. Never ignorant to the situations at hand. They gather their ammunitions and sling their havoc over their right shoulder, “Come. We must press forward if we wish to vinna. Victory is but a squad away.” In other words: their goal is priority.

Anita knew that. Ajay knew it too. They had to move, and move quickly. The fragile air thickens when a shot’s fired and Anita is already calling out positions. Throwing her weight into a tight roll as she tosses out smoke to allow them enough time to escape.

It’s a perilous firefight. And it lasts for what feels like forever. Dust flies, bullets hit their marks and before they know it —- they’re champions. Anita can’t rejoice but she can digest the feeling of slight relief. One more game won, one more step closer to finding her brother and her family. And she can’t rejoice, because she’s got about three bullets in one calf and no syringes. “Well — I’ve been hit but damn do I still got it.” She doesn’t smile. Her humor is dry. She’s biting through her pain as Ajay begins the procedure of tediously plucking shrapnel and bullets from her comrade’s sides in a housing unit provided by the game’s creators themselves. A form of respite for the crew. Well deserved. It gave them all a chance to focus. To regroup and prepare for the next hosting in about two weeks time. Bloodhound formally thanked Ajay for her diligence and congratulated their comrades before retiring for the evening. They were exhausted and rightfully so. Anita and Ajay didn’t mind the (seemingly well-timed) moment alone. Each saying their goodbyes to their somewhat-friend and returning to the process of healing. Ajay using her drone to administer healing serums and allow the wounds to slowly close. “I’ll never get used to that. Watching a scar appear right before my eyes,” says Anita, with a tired stare. Distant - again. Ajay can’t help but to frown inwardly. Why won’t she talk? Does she always think of the world as a warzone? 

“It’ll take time. You don’t have ta’ worry about it foreva’. Not when you have me.” And she smiles. It’s fragile. As if she expects some sort of rejection. As if Anita will push her away and recoil into her hardened shell. Anita, ornate — intricate in all of her secrecy and stoicism, is what Ajay wants to peer into. She wished she could read her like a poem - with her name as a delicate sonnet on her soft lips. She imagines, what it would be like, to love a woman so wounded by time. She almost weeps for her. 

But she doesn’t ; Anita doesn’t recoil . “That’s why i’m alive, right? Because of you.”

“You got that right.” There’s a pregnant pause between them. Ajay doesn’t know how to formulate her words in a way that won’t scare her off or make her angry. She doesn’t want to reduce Anita to some wounded woman looking for love - she wants Anita to know she CAN find it while still being that stalwart soldier that she is ... “You carry a burden. I can see it in ya’ eyes. Underneath all that brown and bravado - it’s like you’re cryin’ for help. You can talk about it, you know.”

“No, I can’t. It’s not anyone else’s problem but my own.” She twitches as Ajay finishes patching her up. Settles down into the little bed she’s claimed and tries to avert her gaze with this pensive purse of lips. Where they’re chapped, she gnaws. An entirely different person with an entirely different demeanor. She’s... nervous. It isn’t like her. “I appreciate your concern but really. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Forgive a girl for tryin’ ta’ get ta’ know the woman she cares about.” There’s a false mirth to her tone. Charismatically bubbly to disguise the scorn. Ajay should have known better than to approach her when she’s still finicky and prickly with pain. She feels childish. Like she’s a schoolgirl asking her crush for a response on that little crumpled up piece of paper. Do you like me? Yes or no? “I know you feel it too, Anita. Don’t go ‘round actin’ like you don’t.” 

“I never said I - I never said I didn’t.” Her brows furrow and her face is scrunched with a new expression. Uncertainty. “This isn’t the place to do this.”

“You want me ta’ go back out there in two weeks time an’ pretend we don’t like each other. Is that it? Am I just anotha’ squadmate to you?”

“No—“

“Then?”

“I can’t lose you! I can’t stand the idea of you being torn from me somehow! I lost my brother - my family - and I won’t be losing you too! Look, Ajay, I’m a warrior. I’m a soldier. We aren’t cut out for these touchy feely things. I’m built for war. Not... loss.” And she ruptures like broken glass. Her pointed shards are scattered, she’s laid out her emotions and they’re strewn about like poorly gutted innards. She doesn’t know where to look. If she should look at Ajay, or her own shaking hands. She thought the victory would sate her conscience but in truth she might not ever find that peace. It all felt so flimsy to her. So carelessly flimsy.

Ajay touches her like she’s the smallest thing in the world. Her hands reek of salve but somehow that still comforts her. Soothes the rage and prowess and ... relaxes her. She is no fine blade right then. Just a girl. Just Anita. She feels that calloused hand against her jaw and she turns on an instinct. Looks her in the eyes and relishes the clarity the deep brown gives her. She’s never felt this way before. She’s never given herself time to but god does she feel so.. alive. She takes a breath but Ajay’s rebuttal comes in the form of a firm kiss. Ajay’s seated to her left but Anita can feel the way she leans to deepen it without a second thought. Her face is on fire. She feels it. She feels so giddy, as if her heart is going to burst out of her chest and race into the atmosphere. Ajay kisses her like she’s been waiting for years. With purpose. With a hand holding her by the cheek and the other gently resting at a bandaged shoulder. 

What Anita needs is something solid. And Ajay knows it. She moves to pull away and she’s stripping herself down to be completely naked. It’s done gradually, done in the heat of the moment so that Anita can take in her naked form - still glistening with some sweat. They aren’t speaking but they’re reading each other like a book. Ajay doesn’t look nervous but she feels it. Anita looks and feels nervous, even when Ajay moves to settle over her and help her out of her fatigues without disturbing her healing wounds. Before they knew it, they were kissing again but this time without restraint. Muscle to muscle, skin to skin. Ajay bearing down on Anita - moans silently released into waiting mouths while hands wandered and dipped between legs to feel what they wanted. Anita expertly teased at her taint and Ajay willingly bent for her. Reorienting herself so that she too could feel her swollen lips, wet with arousal and slowly roll her clit between deft fingers. Ajay uses her free hand to cup a scarred breast. Groping it under her palm and rolling hips in-time with each languid stroke and touch to her swollen bud. Relishing the way Anita would spread her juices and teasingly slip her fingers inside, only to hear her moan in disappointment when she would pull them out again. Ajay, retaliating by stimulating her clitoris and her opening with gentle fingertips - gentle prods and tight little circles that would make Anita’s thighs clench and make Ajay so very smug. 

They kiss and they finger. It’s passionate. It’s maddening. They edge each other and finger fuck one another until they inevitably reach their climax - just like that. It didn’t have to be special or raw. Only human, in a way they both could understand. Anita needed the physical reassurance. Ajay personally didn’t mind it. And would like to do it again, sometime.

Anita doesn’t giggle but she does chuckle. It’s a stormy chuckle, amused and calmed at the same time. Letting Ajay get up and get dressed so that she could too. And so that they could simply lay there — whispering about what they liked or what their childhoods were like.

Just for the sake of knowing.


End file.
